


A Glimpse Beyond This Illusion

by jennel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Set between S15 Ep 19 and S15 Ep 20, canon if you squint, sam winchester is a good brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27851614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennel/pseuds/jennel
Summary: Set after S15 Ep 19 but before S15 Ep 20, Dean tries to cope with the loss of his best friend.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	A Glimpse Beyond This Illusion

Dean sat, bleary-eyed at the kitchen table, powering through the better part of a bottle of Kentucky bourbon. He'd been out all night, but his plan to drink himself into near-oblivion and then take some comfort in a one-night stand had gone disastrously wrong, and all he wanted now was to hold his burgeoning headache at bay, and pass out into a dreamless sleep.

And he was nearly there when he became aware of the sound of a door opening, the shuffling of two pair of feet, and the low, deep rumble of his brother's voice. A few minutes later, Sam entered the kitchen clad only in a pair of pajama bottoms, and then halted in his tracks as he caught sight of Dean. He pitched forward and made an "oof" sound as Eileen, who'd been following close at his heels, bumped into him, surprised by his abrupt stop. "Dean...uhhhh..." Sam stammered as Eileen peaked out from behind him. Sam glanced down at her. All she had on was his pajama top, but she was petite, and mostly covered by it. "Uh, we didn't think you'd be here" he continued.

Dean looked at him skeptically. "I live here, Sammy."

Sam looked at him with concern. "Well, yeah, of course" he said. "But I can't remember the last time I saw you up at 7am." Eileen slid into view, but stayed close, her arm curving around Sam, who automatically laid his across her shoulders. "We were just coming to get some coffee" she said, and smiled up at Sam, who closed his eyes briefly before planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Together they moved toward the coffee maker to put on a fresh pot.

From the table, Dean watched them as they went about what he guessed was their morning routine: brewing coffee, toasting bread, peeling fruit, but always staying close to one another, touching as much as possible. Sam kept a hand on the small of her back, removing it only when necessary to sign something to her, or pour the coffee. She, in turn, stayed in Sam's orbit, her hand on this stomach, or his hip. It was sweet, rather than sexual, as though they wanted a constant physical reminder of the other's presence and safety.

Dean looked away, and then closed his eyes. He was happy for Sam, truly. Eileen was a great girl, and a perfect match for his brother, and he was so damn glad that Sam had the chance for a long, happy life. But that didn't change the fact that Dean had a constant hollow ache in his chest, and it got worse as he watched them. And he couldn't drink it away, or fuck it away, no matter how hard he tried.

He opened his eyes in time to see Sam look away quickly and pretend he hadn't been staring at his brother, worry furrowing his brow. "It's been a long night kids" Dean said, standing up, "and I'm gonna hit the rack. Wake me up if the world ends. Again.”

He shuffled out of the kitchen before Sam could protest, but stopped to hold up the wall just outside, as the abundance of booze in his system made the world start to spin and his vision start to narrow. "I think he's getting worse" he heard Sam say, tears in his voice, before the dark closed in and Dean slid down the wall onto the floor.

***

Many hours later, Dean was sitting up in bed, back against the wall, elbows resting on his knees, and his head in his hands. He wasn't sure how he'd made it to his bed - the last thing he remembered was leaning against the wall outside the kitchen, trying to stay upright. He supposed Sam must have dragged him to his room. Just another tick in the ledger of trouble he'd caused his brother. Small, maybe, in the scheme of things, but another black mark nonetheless.

His headache raged, but he was reluctant to take the aspirin Sam must have left for him. He wasn't sure his churning stomach could take it. Dean tried to lick his lips, but his tongue was dry. Damn, but cotton-mouth was annoying. He forced himself to take a small sip from the bottle of water Sam had left next to his bed, and instantly regretted it, as his stomach rebelled. He spent the next several minutes heaving into a bucket. Sammy had thought of everything, apparently.

Well, it wasn't the first time Dean had come home stupid drunk.

After a few minutes, he leaned back against the wall, and took another cautious sip of water. This time, he kept it down. He risked closing his eyes, and was grateful that the world didn't spin. Unbidden, memories of last night flooded his mind.

He'd spent the better part of the evening in a dive bar, steadily drinking his way toward numb. He was four or five drinks in when the woman sat next to him. "You look like you could use a friend" she said. Her voice was low, with a slight rasp, and sexy as hell, so he looked up. She had dark brown hair, warm brown eyes, and a killer body. She was about his age, or maybe a little older, judging from the lines around her eyes and near her mouth, and beautiful in a way he wouldn't have appreciated as a younger man. But he did now. "Buy you a drink?" he asked.

It was a promising start to what turned into a shit-tacular evening. They'd had a few drinks over the next hour, and then Dean found himself in the kind of cheap motel he knew so well. They kissed frantically, and made their way toward the bed, shedding clothes as they went. It should have been amazing, but the more Dean tried to get into it, into her, the more he felt removed from the situation. Eventually he found himself naked on his back, as she kissed her way down his chest....only to find him less than ready. And the more she tried to arouse him, the less he was able to respond. After several minutes, she paused, and sat up in bed.

Humiliated, Dean swallowed hard and said "I'm sorry." What the hell was happening to him? She gave him a sad smile. "Yeah, OK," she said, disappointed but understanding. "It happens sometimes." But Dean shook his head. "Not to me, damnit!" he said, angrily, the booze making his emotions rage forward. And he must have yelled, because she was up off the bed in an instant, backing away from him with a wary look on her face. "Look, there's no reason to get angry..." she held up her hands to him placatingly.

"I'm not some whack job," he said, upset, "Jesus, I'm not gonna hurt you." She had retreated to the far side of the room, and having done so realized her clothes were on the floor, next to the bed. She looked back and forth between her clothes and him, as if she were trying to gauge if it was safe to approach.

"Look, I'm really not gonna do anything to you." Dan said, and then words started to spill from his mouth, without him meaning for it to happen. "It's just that I lost someone awhile ago, and it's not like we were together, or anything..." To his horror, he realized that were tears in his eyes and they were staring to spill over his lashes. "Only maybe we were. I'm not even sure." Dean knew he was babbling, but he found that he couldn't stop himself. The words tumbled out like tears, and he was powerless against them both. "Or we weren't together, but wanted to be? I don't really know, and either way it's too late now." The combination of whiskey and regret was making him incoherent. Except maybe he wasn't, because the woman - whose name he didn't even know - lost some of the fear in her eyes and approached the bed slowly.

"And I'm not her." she said, nodding her understanding.

"Well, you sure as hell ain't him." Dean said.

She sat down on the bed next to him. "Well, that might explain some things" she said, gently. But he reacted instantly, leaping up from the bed and not noticing that the fear had returned to her eyes. "No! It's not like that! I'm not...I haven't...I mean, I don't think I am...it was just him." He voice dropped off to a whisper. "God, I don't know what it is. Or was. And now I never will." He sat down heavily on the crappy chair in the corner, and it creaked under his weight.

Carefully, the woman gathered her clothes and started to dress, keeping her eyes on him. Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry this didn't work out. I swear I'm not gonna hurt you" he said, ashamed and upset. She nodded, but kept her distance.

When she was finished dressing, she grabbed her purse, and headed for the door. Reassured that he made no attempt to stop her, she paused. "Look for what it's worth, I think love is love. Maybe you don't want to put a label on it, but it is what it is." She sighed and was gone, leaving him alone with his grief.

A knock at the door interrupted his memory, and Dean opened his eyes. "Dean?" Sam asked, not waiting for him to respond before opening the door. He walked in, slowly, and then made a face. "God, it reeks in here."

Dean shrugged. He was sober now...well...mostly. And with that regained some control over his emotions. "It was a rough night." he admitted.

"Yeah, we kind of figured that out" Sam responded.

Dean sighed heavily, but said nothing. An awkward silence stretched between the brothers.

Sam broke first. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Dean pursed his lips and gave him a sardonic stare. "What do you think?" He asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

"I'm worried about you" Sam said quietly. "You're drinking too much, even for you. And driving. Every time you leave the bunker, I'm worried you're gonna end up dead in a ditch." Sam sighed, and his voice dropped, but he looked Dean straight in the eye. "And I'm scared as hell because I think that might be what you want."

Dean looked at Sam for a long second, and worked his jaw muscles, trying to form words, and watched as tears started to form in Sam's eyes. It took a second before Dean realized that he was crying too. Sam pulled a chair up and spun it around, and sat in it backwards, hugging the back of the chair in an unconscious attempt to self soothe. "Talk to me Dean."

But Dean just shook his head, still unable to speak.

"Maybe it would help if you talked about what happened to Cas..." Sam started to say, but stopped as Dean moved, fast as lightening away from Sam, toward the far end of the room. "No! Damnit! Why does everything have to be about Cas!" he exploded. Dean's head spun and his stomach lurched, but he had to put distance between him and Sam. He started to head for the bedroom door, but Sam got there faster.

"No!" he said, forcefully, blocking Dean with his body. "You can't keep running away from this. It's killing you. And watching is killing me!"

"Get outta my way, Sammy" he said, the warning clear in his voice.

"No."

Desperate to escape, Dean took a swing at Sam. But Sam had been expecting this, and moved to his right, so that the blow glanced off of his jaw, rather than hitting him full on. It still hurt like hell, but not enough to take him down. He stayed firmly planted in the doorway.

"No" Sam said. "You can hit me again if you want to, but I'm not letting you of out of here until we've talked."

They stared at each other for a few minutes, and then to Sam's shock, Dean retreated.

"Do what you want," Dan said, "I'm going back to bed." He got back in the bed, turned on his side, and proceeded to ignore Sam. Sam waited until Dean seemed to settle in, and then he left the doorway and sat back down on the chair.

The silence stretched between them, and after a few minutes, Sam began to think Dean really had fallen asleep, when, finally, Dean spoke.

"It is about Cas" he admitted, and he sat back up in bed, but carefully avoided making eye contact with Sam. "I'm not dealing so well with him dying."

"Um, yeah. I figured that out" Sam said.

"And, I think, this time, with Jack being all hands off and all, he's going to stay dead." Dean's voice was tight, and Sam could see the tension in Dean's body.

Sam hesitated, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle. "Yeah" he agreed.

"I just need some time to worth through what that means, OK? And its gonna take some time." Dean sighed. He glanced up at Sam, and seemed on the verge of saying something else, when he changed his mind and looked back down at his feet.

Sam licked his lips, and chose his next words carefully. "I miss him, too. He was like another brother to me - you know that...." he hesitated and then took the plunge. "But I think maybe it was different with you. At least, I'm pretty sure it was different with you, for Cas." Dean made an angry noise, low in his throat, and Sam stopped talking. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a very long minute, before Dean broke it.

“I loved Lisa" he said.

"Um...OK" Sam said, confused.

"I mean, even when I figured out we couldn't be together, that it would only wind up with her and Ben hurt, or worse, I knew I loved her." He looked up at Sam, and his eyes were bright, but dry. Sam nodded his understanding.

"It was a shitty deal, but easy to understand. I wanted her, but I didn't get to have her. Just the way things are meant to be for me.” He cleared his throat. " With Lisa, it was simple. Nothing about Cas is simple."

"OK" Sam said, again.

Dean swallowed. "Cas loved me Sam. Like I loved Lisa."

"Yeah" was all Sam said, clearly not surprised by the revelation.

"Maybe I knew that, all along, but I just didn't want to deal with it.” Dean said, and his eyes reflected his guilt.

“Maybe,” Sam agreed, “but Cas felt how he felt.” He paused. “How do you feel, Dean?

Dean shrugged.

Sam sighed. “I mean, I hope you know…you gotta know…that nothing changes for me, one way or another. I’m your brother.”

Dean nodded, but didn’t look up, so Sam tried again.

“So, how do you feel?” he prompted.

“I don’t know.” Dean said, his voice hollow.

“You don’t know…” Sam said, letting his voice trail off.

Dean seemed to struggle for a second, and then spoke again. “I mean, yeah, I love Cas. Of course I do…but is it…you know, like that? I never even thought about it.”

“Never?” Sam asked, skeptically. “Because, um, from time to time, it seemed to me like maybe you did consider it.”

Dean said nothing and Sam continued. “Some of the others…well, honestly, even me. Sometimes I thought you guys might be together, and you know, just not acknowledging it.”

Dean looked hurt. “I wouldn’t have hidden it, Sam. Not from you.”

Sam nodded. “Maybe you were hiding it from yourself, better than you were from others.”

But Dean shook his head. “I’ve always been into chicks,” he said, “I don’t have any problem with guys who aren’t, but that’s just the way it is. Maybe, with Cas, maybe there was some sort of chemistry or something...” he started to acknowledge, when Sam interrupted.

“And with Benny.”

Dean stared at him. “Benny….” He said.

Sam nodded.

Dean swallowed hard, and a multitude of emotions ripped through his face, but he stayed silent. Sam spoke again. “I mean, not quite the same as with Cas. Not as strong, but, it seemed like there might have been something there, too.”

“Benny was my friend.” Dean’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “Cas is my friend. A guy can have friends and it doesn’t mean…” Dean’s hands were starting to shake, and Sam realized he might have pushed his brother too far.

“Of course!” Sam said, quickly. “Of Course! Look, its none of my business, Dean. I’m just worried about you, and trying to help. If I’m off base, I’ll drop it.”

“You are. You’re off base.” Dean said, starting to get angry. “And you’ve what? Thought this all along? That I was hiding in some closet because I couldn’t face it? That I was some sort of coward?” He said, rage building.

Sam held up a hand. “Never, Dean. You’re the bravest man I know…”

But Dean was on a roll, and started to shout. “I loved Lisa! Losing her and Ben hurt so bad I couldn’t breathe. You have no idea!”

Sam’s face blanked out, and then he said stiffly. “I lost Jess, Dean. And then I lost Eileen.” His eyes filled with tears at the thought of it. “Getting Eileen back, it was like getting myself back. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. And I gotta tell you, I think that’s what’s happening to you, now.”

Dean just shook his head. Sam stood up. “I know you loved Lisa. It doesn’t mean you can’t love Cas, too.”

Sam put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He meant it to be a gesture of comfort, but Dean shrugged it off.

“I just want to help you.” Sam sounded desperate.

“You wanna help? Leave me alone.” Dean laid back down and turned on his side, rolling away from Sam.

Sam waited a beat, and then spoke. “I’m here when you want to talk Dean. About anything” and lef the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Dean waited a few minutes, and then rolled onto his back, and slowly sat up.

“Hey Cas,” he prayed, still unsure of what he was going to say, “you got your ears on?” Dean sighed. “Can you even hear me up in The Empty? Probably you can’t. God, man, I hope you’re sleeping up there. At peace, or whatever. It would suck to be up there in the black…” Dean’s voice trailed off. He’d carefully avoided thinking about what might be happening to Cas right now. It scared the hell out of him, the thought of Cas trapped in the vast nothing, conscious but cut off from everything else, slowly losing his mind, piece by piece, for the rest of eternity.

“I know Jack said he was hand’s off, but I can’t imagine him leaving you there like that. “ He shook his head to banish the thought.

Dean licked his lips. “I wish you hadn’t done that Cas. Sacrificed yourself for me.” Tears started to form in his eyes, but that just pissed him off. He pushed the pads of this thumbs into his eyes, in a futile attempt to get the tears to stop falling. “The way you described me, the way you see me, as this noble, loving guy…it’s not real, Cas. That isn’t how I am. Mostly I’m angry.”

Now that he’d voiced it, Dean felt the anger start to build, and it felt good. “I’m sure as hell not worth dying for! Or at least we could have gone out fighting! And to say you love me – like that – on your way out. What was I supposed to do with that, man? And now I gotta live with that for the rest of my life! That was a real dick move, even for an angel!” Dean was yelling now, and the rage was a relief from everything else.

“You know what, Castiel? Screw you!” Dean jumped up, knocking over a lamp in his haste, and it shattered on the ground with a satisfying crunch, so he kept on going, throwing the chair Sam had sat on against the wall, and then flipping the bed. He was turning to attack the desk when he realized he was no longer alone in the room.

“Hi” Jack said. Dean froze in shock, and the anger that had filled in disappeared as quickly as it had come. Dean stared at him for several seconds, breathing heavily, before he spoke. “I thought you weren’t going to get involved in human shit anymore” Dean said, his voice accusing and his breaths coming in big, heaving gasps. Jack nodded. “That’s my plan,” he agreed calmly, “but I really couldn’t help but hear you yelling I’m still kinda tuned into you and Sam. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Dean said nothing.

“I wanted to let you know that I was able to get Cas out of The Empty. Or, rather, The Empty and I came to an agreement about certain things.” Jack gave him a beatific smile.  
  
“That’s good” Dean said, relieved “Cas didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s not about getting what you deserve, Dean. That isn’t how it works” Jack frowned at him, but when he spoke his voice was gentle. “You didn’t deserve the bad things that happened to you, or the people around you. None of it was your fault.”

Dean stared at Jack, speechless. Jack put his arm on Dean’s shoulder. “This will be the last time you see me. I’m not going to intervene again. I can’t let myself. But you should know – I’ll miss you. You and Sam both.” He smiled.

“Wait!” Dean called out, “You got him out of The Empty, are you bringing Cas back?”

Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry Dean. We’re Team Free Will, remember? Cas made a choice to leave this plane of existence. I have to respect that.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his disappointment evident. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

“Good bye Dean.” Jack was gone in the blink of an eye, but Dean’s room had been put to right, and Dean was left wondering whether any of it had really happened in the first place. Bereft, he sat down heavily on this bed, and tried to get a handle on his emotion. Failing at that, he wept until he fell asleep.

Dean woke from a deep sleep with a start. The first thing he noticed was that his raging headache, roiling stomach and dry mouth were gone. Half a second later, he realized something much weirder: he was no longer in his bed.

Instead, he was lying on the ground. Sitting up to look around, he instantly recognized the worn boards and faded sigils of the barn where he’d first met Cas.

“Hello, Dean” he heard from behind him. Instantly, Dean turned and was up on his feet, searching for the source of the familiar voice. Cas was standing some distance away from him, on the far side of the barn.

Emotions slammed into Dean in rapid succession. Joy, sorrow, regret, and – curiously – fear. Fear wasn’t something he’d ever associated with Cas, and it put him on guard.  
  


“Cas?” he asked, suddenly unsure. “Jack said you wouldn’t be back.” Dean looked at him suspiciously.

“It’s me” the angel assured him. “Well, more or less.” Cas looked around him. “It’s interesting that you’d choose the barn” he added. That confused Dean, for a moment, but then understanding dawned.

“This is a dream” Dean said, both disappointed and relieved. “So…are you..ya know, you?”

“Yes. Appearing in dreams is one of the last loopholes left from Chuck’s universal design.” Cas looked at him sheepishly. “I was supposed to dismantle it,” he admitted, “but I didn’t think Jack would mind too much if I used it one last time.” He smiled at Dean hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure Dean would agree with him.

But Dean grinned, moved to Cas, and pulled him into a hug. “Oh man, is it good to see you again!” he said, momentarily forgetting his concerns.

Cas hugged him back, though hesitantly. “it’s good to see you, too.” He pulled back and studied Dean, carefully. “I heard your prayer, Dean. I was…uncertain of my reception.” And now it was Cas who looked fearful.

Dean stepped away and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, sheepish. “I’m sorry about that, Cas…”

But Cas interjected. “You must understand that I had no expectations of reciprocity,” he explained patiently, “and I didn’t mean to pull a ‘dick move,’ as you called it, by expressing how I felt.”

Dean was shaking his head, and Cas stopped talking. “I didn’t mean that, Cas. I was just angry.” Cas looked crestfallen, so Dean quickly added, “Angry that we didn’t get a chance to talk. Angry that you said it and then died.”

“Well, I didn’t actually die. I was subsumed into an entity…” Cas started to correct Dean but was interrupted.

“Dude! Technicality!” Dean said. Not really the main point, ya know?

“I suppose,” Cas said, “but I’m glad you weren’t angry at my words.”

The two men stood in awkward silence for a moment. Dean opened his mouth to speak several times, then closed it again, as he tried to figure out what to say. As usual, Cas stood stoically, apparently unaware of the tension. Finally, Dean copped out.

“So, Jack brought you out of The Empty.”

Cas smiled, and looked proud. “Yes. Jack is quite an adept negotiator. I think all the beings in The Empty will benefit from their new agreement. Each was able to choose a path – whether to sleep and be at rest, or assist Jack in his work.” Cas beamed as he explained.

But Dean was distracted. “That’s good, that’s good” he said, absently.

“And I’m assisting Jack with important work,” Cas continued, “correcting many flaws in Chuck’s designs. Addressing the fundamental fairness issues that Chick created, and…” Cas cocked his head to the side, and studied Dean, “…And you aren’t really listening to me.” He said, perplexed.

Dean stared at him. “I’m listening, Cas. I just think, you know, we have some other things we shold probably talk about” he said, uncomfortable.

Cas looked confused. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

“Cas, you told me you loved me. Don’t you think we should talk about it?” Dean asked, exasperated.

Cas raised his eyebrows. “You clarified that my words didn’t anger you, which pleases me. Clearly, I still have your friendship,” Cas said, “what else would you like to talk about?”

Dean struggled for words. “Well, I talked to Sam about things, and he said, well, I mean, he thought….” Deam stammered and trailed off. Cas was watching him intently, his expression open, and somehow that made it hard for Dean to speak. He looked down at the floor. “Sammy thought there might be something to it. You know, some chemistry, between you and me.” He took a deep breath to steady himself.

“And you want me to correct Sam’s error?” Cas asked. He looked thoughtful. “I could try to manifest to him in a dream, too, although Jack really doesn’t like interference…” he mused. There was no judgement in his voice, or disappointment. He was simply working out how to do what he thought Dean wanted, with no regard for his own feelings.  
  


Something about that broke Dean’s heart, and he interrupted the angel. “What? No!” Dean said, and Cas looked up in surprise. “I want to talk about what it means. For both of us.”

Cas blinked.

Dean decided to man up. “Maybe…maybe I had, um, different kinds of feelings for you,” he said, awkwardly, his eyes downcast, “and I just didn’t want to face up to it. Maybe I was too much of a coward, and it cost us both something that could have been…” Dean stopped talking as sorrow and shame welled up in him.

But Cas seemed unmoved. “Don’t do this” he said, mirroring Dean’s words to him in the bunker.  
  
Dean looked up at him in shock. “What?”

“Don’t use my emotions, or yours, as another reason to punish yourself.” Cas’ voice was strident. “I meant every word I said, Dean. I love you. You are loving, and generous, and self-sacrificing, and yet you insist on seeing yourself as unworthy.” Cas but an arm on Dean’s shoulder. “I won’t be another reason for you to hate yourself” he said, firmly.

“Maybe that’s the problem” Dean said, quietly. “You see what you want to, not what I really am.’

“I’m an angel of the Lord, Dean. I know exactly who, and what, you are And I do love you. The real you.” And then he stepped forward, laid his hand gently on the side of Dean’s face, and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, and undemanding. Dean could have pulled away easily.

But he didn’t. Instead, he closed his eyes, and almost without meaning to, leaned into Cas and deepened the kiss.

“Well, I guess that answers that.” Dean said, and he embraced Cas. And it was…awkward. Cas was tall – almost as tall as Dean was – and the sensation of stubble against his cheek was unfamiliar as they kissed again.

It was weird.

And wonderful.

After a few minutes, they pulled part. Cas smiled, and looked at Dean tenderly.

“I hate to ruin the moment,” he said, “but I’m still dead.”

“Not dead,” Dean corrected him, “subsumed into an entity…” and they both laughed, though it was tinged with sorrow. “But I know what you mean” Dean finished.

“I had no expectations of you Dean, and you must know how happy this has made me,” Cas said quietly, “but I cannot linger here.”

Dean nodded. “I know. I guess I have to wake up eventually.” He smiled at Cas sadly. “I’m sorry I waited until now to be able to…” But Cas stopped him with a kiss. “No recriminations,” he admonished, “it serves no purpose.” He looked at Dean sternly. “Live your life,” Cas said,” and don’t let me be a source of regret.”

Dean nodded reluctantly. “Easier said than done” he admitted.

Cas smiled at him. “Well, try. For me” he added, and Dean realized that he’d have to. “I promise.”

Cas sighed. “I’m afraid I have to go. Jack is pretty adamant about letting humans live without the interference of heaven.” He gazed at Dean. “I won’t be back” he said, as gently as he could.

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” He felt the tears start to well up in his eyes, but made no attempt to hide them. Gently, he kissed Cas, and they held each other for a moment.  
  
“I love you, Cas.” Dean said.

“I love you, too” Cas said. Then, with a gentle whoosh, the angel was gone.

***

Back in his bed, Dean woke up. His headache was back, and his stomach felt sick, but the weight he’d carried around in his chest for a lifetime felt lighter, and more manageable. He reached up, and brushed the tears away from his face.

He sat up and looked around the room, trying to determine if his dream was real, or had just been his own subconscious. On some level, he wondered if that even mattered. He knew the truth now: he loved Cas. And was loved in return.

He rolled that idea around in his head, trying to wrap his brain around it. He expected to feel the weight of regret over his delayed realization, or an abiding sorrow over Cas’ death – or whatever it was. And those things did hurt, deeply. But to his shock, they were tempered by a sense of peace.

“Thanks, Cas” he prayed, briefly.

So Dean got up from his bed, threw on his robe, and headed out of his room toward the kitchen. “Sam?” he called out, “you’re not gonna believe this!”

  
  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> The end of Supernatural broke my heart. I couldn't figure out how we got from a broken Dean crying on the floor of the bunker after Castiel's death, to the relatively well adjusted guy making his bed and eating pie. So I decided that something must have happened between those two episodes to explain it. This is my take on how Dean came to terms with losing Cas.


End file.
